Chanteuse
by Amouru
Summary: It's snowing at Grimmauld Place. Harry has an unexpected visitor. AU, HP/TMR Preslash, Oneshot


Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR.

Rating: T

Summary:

Its snowing at Grimmauld Place. Harry has an unexpected visitor. AU, HP/TMR Preslash, Oneshot

AN: A quick oneshot I had in my head. I'll get another chapter for Entwine done hopefully soon. This just needed to get out :3

The title would make more sense as this is mostly meant as a prequel thing to a fic I really _shouldn't_ write.

* * *

It wasn't as though Harry had meant to do it. He was truly happy that Mr. Weasley was going to be ok, but the moment they had made it back to Grimmauld, and his friends dove at his throat with questions about his vision, Harry had become furious. Didn't they see it terrified him more than it terrified them? They didn't have Voldemort in their head, they didn't get sucked into the other man's mind as he tortured and killed and _enjoyed_ it. Before he had even known what he had been doing, Harry had raced outside, ignoring their yells and frightened murmuring.

Once outside though, and a good length from the house, Harry had finally stopped. It was snowing; icy winds brushed his hair and face, and he shivered. He had forgotten his coat. And inside, his wand.

His stomach dropped.

Looking around, he saw nothing familiar. He didn't know his way back. Voldemort could be out there right now, searching for him, or worse, he could be possessed again. Harry's fingers curled into fists as he crossed them in front of his chest. He was freezing.

"You look cold, Potter."

Harry swung around, reaching for his wand only to remember where it wasn't. He swallowed, muscles taunt.

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you yet."

Harry finally caught sight of the person to which the voice belonged to. The man was tall, too thin like he was, with dark hair. His voice was familiar, but Harry couldn't place it. For some bizarre moment, Harry thought it could be his father, but then he remember the man's words from before, and his eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" Harry said warily.

"What, you don't recognize me? I'm hurt," The man mocked, and Harry caught sight of his eyes.

They were red.

"Voldemort," Harry breathed, and fury burned under his skin. It wasn't fear oddly enough, but he had been this man's head far too many times for that. Sometimes Harry thought he _was_ him.

To his surprise, the dark haired man grimaced. "Is that what you all still call me? Merlin, that's horrible."

Harry blinked, then his mouth turned into a snarl. "What do you want? Going to capture me and torture-"

"Didn't you just hear me?" The other man interrupted. "I just said I wasn't. I'm simply here because I'm curious."

"You're curious?" Harry said. "About what? Come to brag about getting Mr. Weasley? I have news for you; he's going to make it."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and let out a rough laugh. "I know that already, silly boy. Now stop fighting me-"

"Stop fighting me? Fuck you, _Tom," _Harry snarled, kicking the ground. "You've taken everything away from me, you want me to just give up? How stupid can you-"

Suddenly the man was moving, merely a hair's length away from him. A pale finger was brought to his lips, and Harry squeaked in surprise. Voldemort laughed. "Oh, do be quiet, Potter. I just meant that I wanted to have a decent conversation where we aren't trying to kill the other. Can we do that, just for a few minutes?"

Harry stared wide-eyed at the man, not knowing how to speak. Staring at the Dark Lord, he noticed the light bruises under his eyes as though he hadn't been sleeping. Under his sleeve, there was something that looked like a deep cut. Something was off.

"Yeah," He said without thinking, "I guess we can do that for a few minutes."

Voldemort moved away, and Harry released a breath.

"Your _guards_ don't know you're out here?" The dark haired man spoke after a moment.

Harry, to his embarrassment, flushed pink. "I kinda ran out without thinking."

Voldemort laughed again, "That's typical of you, Potter. You should probably work on that."

Harry's fingernails dug deeper into his palm, but he didn't say anything.

"Right," The other man hummed, "Where to start?"

He swung around abruptly, setting crimson eyes on his. Harry was startled to see they weren't as they had been before. In the cemetery, they had been snakelike and cruel. Now they were almost - pretty. Harry blinked at this, and then glared at the other man. He didn't know why, but he was sure Voldemort was making him think it.

"You weren't being possessed last night, Potter. You were simply seeing into his mind which was focused on Nagini. You aren't turning into a giant snake. You need not to worry." The Dark Lord suddenly said, looking away.

Harry blinked. "Uhh, thanks. You came here just to tell me that?"

The younger boy watched as Voldemort closed his eyes for a moment.

"I have lots of things to tell you, if you're willing to stay."

He wandered closer, and Harry flinched when his wand rose in the air towards him. It was too late except to watch the spell hit him. To his surprise, he only felt warmer.

"A heating spell, nothing to be afraid of," He continued in a cool voice. "In a few weeks you'll start dreaming of a corridor, over an over. Don't trust it. When the end of the school year comes, you'll get another vision, this time of someone you care deeply about being hurt. It is a lie. Only an illusion. Just ignore it."

Harry cocked his head. Something was ringing in the back of his head, like he should know something but couldn't remember. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean you should have one beginning of summer that doesn't start with bloodshed."

"And if I do what you say, I will?"

Voldemort nodded. "I know you don't trust me-"

Harry laughed harshly, "I don't trust a single word that comes out of your mouth."

His mouth drew into a harsh line. "You're smarter than you look. But you're also too stubborn. Sometimes it's better to simply run."

Harry's eyes widened at the vitriol tone in the man's voice. Maybe it was because his enemy wore a human-like face, but Harry could no longer look at him as though he were a monster.

"I know that," Harry said, "My summer is full of running. I had eleven years of running. I have to stop."

Voldemort stared at him for awhile, and Harry stared back fiercely.

"If you didn't trust Dumbledore's every word, perhaps you would have escaped already."

Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but then remembered Dumbledore still wasn't looking at him. Remembered how he had wanted to bite and kill the man as he had with Mr. Weasley.

He didn't speak.

Voldemort wet his lips. "That's all. Don't expect me in your visions to be as nice. I'm not your friend-"

Harry's eyes suddenly blazed, "You don't need to tell me _that._"

Voldemort's arm jerked. With some fascination, Harry watched a streak of blood roll down his hand, and onto the slushy pavement.

"You're hurt."

The Dark Lord shrugged and then started to turn. "It was necessary."

Harry rushed after him, as words tumbled out of his mouth.

"Why are you telling me all this? You try to kill Mr. Weasley, and you're warning me and -" Harry cut himself off, as Voldemort's words sunk in. He suddenly remembered what had bothered him. "You said 'You were simply seeing into his mind'. Like you aren't _him._ Who are you?"

Voldemort turned, a bitter smile pulling at his mouth.

"I'm Tom Riddle."


End file.
